


No One Can Save Me the Damage Is Done

by jolybird



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Bad Decisions, Break Up, Drunken Shenanigans, Gen, Karaoke, Minor Joly/Bossuet Laigle/Musichetta, Puppies, briefly mentioned transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-22 21:04:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9625319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jolybird/pseuds/jolybird
Summary: The story of how Courfeyrac joined Les Amis is the stuff of local legend. Some say there was no Les Amis until him, some say they were lucky the group even existed after he came barreling in. Depending on who you asked and when you asked it, it was a wildly impossible tale that directly conflicted with the last retelling. Bossuet hummed Bon Jovi at Combeferre even though he joined months later and Jehan would laugh about apancake dickasaurus. It was a mystery that would never be solved as Courfeyrac’s stories varied worst of all, Enjolras refused to speak of it and Combeferre insisted he was black-out drunk for the majority of it.He did think his first memory of Courfeyrac was waking up next him with Enjolras snoring in his ear though.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly I think I'm hilarious when it comes to titles and that's all that counts. Title comes from Bon Jovi's You Give Love a Bad Name for reasons that will be instantaneously obvious. I started this back in November to get my mind off of things and as things started to spiral...this spiraled too. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Rated T for bad decisions, how wasted Combeferre is and how little he suffers for it the next morning.

“Am I that drunk already or does the band tonight  _ suck _ ?” 

“It's karaoke night.” Courfeyrac laughed, glancing to the stage crammed into the corner of the room. Two men were perched atop it, singing horribly off-key. Or--actually that  _ one  _ note had been really good. 

“You have got to be shitting me. How much public embarrassment do two guys need?” 

“They’re having a good time.”

“I expect if I'm  _ having a good time _ by singing You Give Love A Bad Name for a half hour straight, you promptly shut it down.” 

Courfeyrac swirled his drink around, nearly sloshing the dark liquid over the rim, “And deal with Joly and R getting on my case for upsetting you? I think not.”    


Bossuet hid his smile in his drink. 

“They haven’t really been singing the same song for a half hour have they?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder again. He couldn’t see anyone paying them much attention at all, which meant no one was going to start a fight over their enthusiastic taste in music, but it also meant they didn’t have friends that were looking out for them. 

“Yeah.” Bossuet slid his phone over as it went off, allowing Courfeyrac to see the picture of Joly and Musichetta sitting on their couch. 

“They miss you?” Courfeyrac asked, raising his eyebrows as he read the accompanying message, “they went back to the apartment and were upset you weren’t there?”

“Good on you for finally learning how to read,” his friend deadpanned and Courfeyrac nudged him with his elbow. “I don’t know what it means.”

Courfeyrac turned away from Bossuet and back to the two who were  _ still _ singing the same song. Now the one with glasses was too busy giggling and the blond had seized the moment for a solo. 

“I think it means that you should get over there and find out,” he turned back to Bossuet who narrowed his eyes and gave a frustrated flick of his hand. 

“Find out what?” Bossuet hissed. 

Courfeyrac tried to keep his voice cool and aloof but they both knew that Joly and Bossuet’s life-long friendship had been strained recently. Neither could imagine it (they had both drunkenly confessed they couldn’t imagine their life without Joly which was much more embarrassing for Courfeyrac who had only known him for a couple years).  “Find out whatever it is there is to find out.” 

“He’s my best friend, Courfeyrac, and I’m just supposed to--what? Go over there and be enthusiastic for them having a great date and pretend I don’t know which one I’m more jealous of? Jealousy isn’t healthy in a friendship, Courfeyrac.” 

“Yeah. I’m the one who told you that when you sulked for three hours because I hatched an Aerodactyl in Pokemon Go.” 

“I had forgotten about that,” Bossuet whispered and then downed the rest of his beer. “Okay. I’m going to go see what there is to find out.” 

Courfeyrac glared at him partly for continuing to overuse  _ find out _ good naturedly and partly because it took bringing up an  _ Aerodactyl  _ for him to finally decide to leave,  “Good luck.” 

Bossuet pulled on his coat with an exhausted sigh, “ _ thanks _ .” 

Courfeyrac turned back to the bar after watching Bossuet make his way outside and ordered himself another drink that he downed quickly. Bossuet would be okay. Courfeyrac had been there for several of Joly’s worried tirades when he realized that the long suffering crush on his best friend hadn’t gone away when he met Musichetta. And Musichetta, the few times Courfeyrac met her, had seemed to adore Bossuet. So they’d be okay. They’d be adults about it. Hopefully Musichetta would stay friends with them because the woman was a hilarious fountain of good ideas. He didn’t envy his friends thought, tonight could be a tipping point for the rest of their lives. 

The song started up for a third time and Courfeyrac got to his feet. If no one else was going to help the poor guys on stage, he would. They had traded places so now the one with glasses and tattoos hogged the microphone and he didn’t notice him in the slightest. The blond, with his bright red t-shirt, however looked ready to fucking pounce. 

He’d have to go about this delicately. He was a drink past ready to fight. Bossuet had been ready to down his conflicting feelings in whatever he could get his hands on and Courfeyrac never liked to make his friends drink alone. 

He tapped the mic stand and tattoos looked down at him, all smiles. “Do you guys want some cheese fries?”

“Are you really offering us cheese fries when we’ve just sung You Give Love A Bad Name four times in a row?” The blonde said, and Courfeyrac  _ wasn't  _ getting into a fight tonight so he forced his most easygoing smile on his face. 

“Four? I thought it was only three.” Courfeyrac quipped, raising his eyebrows at the blond. Either he wasn’t actually as wasted as he thought or he had sobered up extremely fast at the thought of cheese fries. 

“If the man’s offering us cheese fries, let him.” Glasses stumbled down the steps into Courfeyrac’s arms. The other one jumped down next to them. He was either graceful or lucky. 

Courfeyrac led them over to the bar and placed their order along with some water that Glasses gratefully drank. 

“I’m Combeferre,” he smiled, as he put the glass down with a loud thump. “And this is Enjolras.” 

Enjolras was busy stirring the ice around his cup with a straw he had procured from god knows where. He glanced up briefly to meet Courfeyrac’s eye and then looked back down again. 

Combeferre pushed himself to his feet and excused himself to the bathroom about a minute before the fries arrived. Enjolras nearly pounced on them and Courfeyrac got the most distinct feeling that if he went for the other basket, he’d be down a finger or two. 

“You two alright?” Courfeyrac asked and Enjolras just glanced up at him, dipped a fry into the cheese sauce and ate it. “No seriously. Why the fuck are you up there singing You Give Love A Bad Name for nearly a half hour.” 

Enjolras ate another three fries before looking Courfeyrac up and down. He turned his attention back to the fries after Courfeyrac felt suitably judged and then spoke, “His boyfriend of a year and a half dumped him in the middle of a conversation and kicked him out of their flat. It’s been a week and this is the first time I’ve convinced him to do anything.” 

“That blows.” 

Enjolras scoffed and ate another fry. 

Courfeyrac asked for two more waters. 

When Enjolras had eaten about half the basket of fries and Combeferre still hadn’t returned, Courfeyrac turned to him, “You’ll be alright here for a minute won’t you?” 

Enjolras raised an eyebrow and nodded, taking another bite of a limp fry. 

Courfeyrac nodded back and then headed into the bathroom where he found Combeferre quickly. He was sitting on the floor in a stall next to the door. His hand was about three inches from Courfeyrac’s foot and it was a wonder it hadn't been stepped on yet. He knocked on the door and Combeferre’s voice was muffled and indistinguishable from the rest of the muted bar noise. 

“You alright in there?” he asked, glancing to the only other man in the room who quickly dried his hands on his pants and left, missing Combeferre’s hand by centimeters. 

Combeferre made another noise that might have been  _ yeah leave me the fuck alone _ or  _ no _ . 

“Can you open the door?” 

Again Combeferre made the same faint noise. Courfeyrac contemplated his options and then turned and grabbed some paper towels. He then crouched down to look under the stall, using the paper towels to protect his hand from actually touching the floor. 

Combeferre was looking at him, bemused, and Courfeyrac just shrugged, “so how’s life?” 

“A bit plastered.” 

“Yeah. I can tell. Were you sick?”

Combeferre shook his head and then pushed himself up, thankfully using the side of the stall and not the toilet. Courfeyrac scrambled to his feet to avoid the door swinging open. 

“Thanks for checking in me. 

“I wouldn't feel right knowing you died alone in a stall after your stellar performance out there.” 

“No one I know is here right?” He groaned, heading towards the sink. 

“I don't know who you know. But Enjolras is here?” 

“You know Enjolras?” Combeferre looked a bit impressed and Courfeyrac had to stifle the laugh that bubbled up. 

“I just met the both of you.”

Combeferre nodded and washed his hands with the utmost concentration. After several minutes went by and Combeferre was still attempting to scrub under his fingernails, Courfeyrac asked again, “how are you feeling?” 

“Upset and betrayed and more drunk than I should. I shouldn't have been so blind sided and I shouldn't be acting like this but it came out of nowhere and we were just talking about adopting a dog.”

“He sounds like a dick.”

“He always was, of course, but it just took  _ this  _ for me to realize.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Me too. The next guy’s not going to be as great as me.”

“Damn straight.” He said and Combeferre laughed as he finally dried his hands and, since he was looking a bit unsure still, Courfeyrac added, “Wash your hands again. Who knows how many people have puked on that floor.” 

Combeferre, for a moment, looked like his soul up and left his body. Which, honestly, was the appropriate response for realizing you had just been sitting on the floor of a bar’s bathroom. 

The door to the bathroom swung open violently and Enjolras was suddenly in the doorway, the other basket of cheese fries in his hands. He looked vaguely panicked but smiled when he saw Combeferre attempting to use up all the soap in one go. 

“Is this where you went off to?” he asked Courfeyrac. 

“He was sulking.” 

Combeferre had the gall to look affronted at that, “I wasn’t...yeah. Sorry. I was sulking.” 

Enjolras grimaced, “were you on the floor?” 

“Yeah.” Courfeyrac indicated Combeferre washing his hands with a wave of his hand, “hence we’ve spent ten minutes at the sink.” 

“We should go.” Enjolras said, looking at Combeferre. 

“Do you want me to call you a ride?” 

“No, we live just a couple blocks away.” Enjolras glanced to him and suddenly Courfeyrac felt like his entire life was being judged, “you can come with us if you want. I can make coffee or something to pay you back for the fries.” 

At the mention of fries, Combeferre dried his hands and Enjolras relinquished the basket. He looked more than comfortable with eating them in the bathroom but it was making Courfeyrac a bit queasy so he led them back outside. 

He attempted to politely bow out of going back to Enjolras’ flat but neither man would let him actually say no. He ended up feeling guilty about sending them off on their own and decided he could at least walk them to the flat and make sure they didn’t die on the way. 

Courfeyrac quickly settled his tab, checked with Enjolras and Combeferre twice to make sure they hadn’t opened one, spent three minutes convincing Combeferre to return the fry basket and then the three were off down the street. 

It was supposed to rain but it hadn’t started yet. Hopefully it’d stay that way until he got home. Hopefully Bossuet wouldn’t be crashing on his couch when he got there. Hopefully he was okay. Courfeyrac didn’t dare risk texting him now. 

They walked in relative silence, every once in awhile Enjolras would say something quietly to Combeferre who would respond with something that was so completely random Courfeyrac would have to look between them trying to figure out just who these two men were and why he was walking home with them. 

“Hold on,” Combeferre said, stopping suddenly on the sidewalk. Enjolras grimaced but Combeferre’s eyes were on the shop next to them. He took out his wallet and checked to see how much cash he had on him. Enjolras tried and failed to hide his smile and Courfeyrac really hoped he was going to buy a snack and he was going to share. He still couldn’t tell if Enjolras was wasted or not and it made him want to snack out of annoyance.  “Wait here, I got this.” 

“Uh--” Courfeyrac started as he watched Combeferre struggle to open the door, “should we?” 

Enjolras shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair, “he’ll be fine.” 

“Will he?” Courfeyrac asked and Enjolras smiled and looked away. He waited a minute for him to respond but when he didn’t, he stepped into his line of sight, “ _ will _ he?” 

“Of course--look he’s on his way out now.” 

Courfeyrac turned and sure enough Combeferre was struggling with the door again. He had spent more time fighting with the door than actually inside the store. 

“I got face masks!” Combeferre smiled, holding up a couple little packets. Enjolras glanced to him, his smile so fond it almost made Courfeyrac’s heart ache. Combeferre struggled to find a place to put them and then ended up handing them to Enjolras for him to put in his jacket pocket. 

Enjolras led them down the street, Combeferre linked his arm with Courfeyrac’s and when he glanced to him he was frowning. Hopefully he was just concentrating on walking and not about to start sulking again--or worse. Enjolras slowed in front of a bakery and for a second Courfeyrac thought they were going to break in. He really didn’t want to end his night with a B & E charge. 

Then he stopped in front of a stone archway next to the shop and he quickly unlocked the door, glancing to Courfeyrac a little guiltily. “I’m on the sixth floor, sorry.” 

“You live here?” Courfeyrac glanced up to the windows on the top floor, they had a railing above them which meant he  probably had rooftop access the asshole. 

“It’s my favorite apartment in Paris.” Combeferre smiled and pulled Courfeyrac inside.  They went up the narrow stairs, white walls with dark beams, wooden steps worn away from years and years of use. “These are the original stairs from the seventeenth century. Imagine how many people have walked up them.” 

Courfeyrac held onto the railing to counter Combeferre’s slight swaying. Enjolras let them into the apartment and there was another small winding staircase that was about seven steps too many for his aching thighs. 

There were reusable shopping totes filled with books and clothes everywhere. A desktop computer was sitting in front of a bookshelf and--

Without warning two tiny dogs came hauling around the corner and jumped up on Combeferre. One looked like a fat french bulldog and the other was an old and weathered black and white fox terrier/chihuahua. Courfeyrac fell a little in love instantly.    


“You two should be asleep. Do you know how late it is.” Combeferre scolded as he knelt down to hug them. 

“ Jésuite and Canelé. His foster dogs.” Enjolras explained. 

“He kicked the foster dogs out too? What kind of monster.” Courfeyrac ignored that someone had named the dogs after pastries and, honestly, he didn’t know what Combeferre had seen in his ex. He seemed too good for him, maybe he had some deep dark secret. Maybe he never did dishes or cried through sex. 

Enjolras pressed his lips together and raised his eyebrows like he had been saying the same thing for months. Courfeyrac glanced to Combeferre as he took a stumbling step to his feet. 

“Who wants treats?”

The apartment was small, maybe twenty feet in front of them was the wall with windows that looked directly out towards Notre Dame. A bookshelf dominated most of the wall next to them, in front were a couple of mismatched chairs that were probably Combeferre’s and a big pile of bedding, blankets and pillows--hopefully not where Combeferre had been spending his post-breakup time. To the right was a small living area with two couches and as they followed Combeferre inside, he saw that around the corner was a small kitchen and past that was Enjolras’ bedroom. 

Which was basically just a bed in a corner. Courfeyrac didn’t realize how obsessed he was with his bedroom door until he saw that Enjolras very nearly slept in the kitchen. The fridge was maybe five steps away. 

“How do you live like this?” Courfeyrac asked, without entirely meaning to. “You don’t have blinds, how do you sleep in the morning?” 

Enjolras rolled his eyes, “There’s a curtain.” 

Now that he pointed it out, Courfeyrac saw the fabric hanging from the ceiling. “Holy shit how big are those curtains that’s awesome.” He side stepped around and, like an idiot, pulled the curtains closed a little. Now essentially in Enjolras’ bedroom and totally violating all personal space, Courfeyrac did the next logical thing. Point to the floating staircase that went up over the side of his bed. 

“Does that go to the roof.” 

“It goes to the veranda and terrace.” Combeferre told him, sounding like he was showing off even as he made one of the dogs shake his hand to get a treat. 

“You have a veranda. I have to see it.” 

Enjolras just sighed as he pulled his shoes off, “Don’t fall.” 

“That’s okay if I fall I’ll just land on your bed.” 

“ _ Do not _ .” 

Courfeyrac climbed the stairs half certain he was going to lose his balance and completely bite it but then he was upstairs and there was a tiny dog laying on it’s back on the couch. It was looked like some kind of Pomeranian mix, the top of it was tan and the bottom white and it had big, fluffy,  _ adorable  _ ears. 

“There’s another dog up here.” He whispered and it just cocked it head at him. 

“Religieuse or Vitréais?” Enjolras asked, complete nonplussed with a stranger wandering around his home. 

“It’s a Pomeranian? I think? How many pastry dogs do you have?” 

“Religieuse.” he answered, sounding distracted. 

“Here I have a treat for her--” Combeferre said, there was a crash and then a biscuit hit him. Courfeyrac flinched and twisted around but caught it. They shared a impressed glance but then Courfeyrac set his sights back on the dog. 

Slowly, so he didn’t scare her, Courfeyrac went to sit next to her on the small couch. She flipped over and then, when he held out the treat, all but body slammed into him. She curled up on his lap and started chewing on the biscuit.

“Holy shit.” he whispered, looking around. He could just see the top of Notre Dame from his vantage point and he was glad god was witnessing what might be one of the most religious moments of his life.

“Courfeyrac? Is everything okay?” 

“I think I’m in love?” 

“Is she...not...attacking you?” 

“No she loves me.” 

Enjolras’ head appeared a moment later and he laughed. “She was returned twice for biting people.” 

“That’s okay. They probably deserved it, right sweetheart?”    


Enjolras rolled his eyes and vanished back downstairs. He and Combeferre moved around the apartment for several moments more as he scratched the top of her head and then Combeferre called him down, saying that they were doing face masks. 

Not one to miss the opportunity to pamper his skin, Courfeyrac gently nudged Religieuse off his lap and went to go downstairs. The dog followed at his heels and nudged in front of him. She hopped down onto the top step and before Courfeyrac could even think of picking her up (the stairs looks too dangerous for her tiny legs), she lept straight to the bed. She bounced, nearly flipped, but then used the momentum of her second bounce to neatly land on the floor. 

Enjolras almost growled and Combeferre scolded her softly. 

Courfeyrac all but plummeted down the stairs as he raced after her and swooped her up into his arms. She just looked at everyone cooly. “What were you thinking? That was so dangerous!” 

“She does that all the time. She likes it.” 

“Oh my god.” Courfeyrac whispered, horrified. 

Combeferre gave Courfeyrac a glittery headband (Enjolras was wearing it’s twin) that he didn’t explain and Courfeyrac pushed his hair back and then the three of them crowded around the bathroom mirror to put the masks on. Combeferre kept giggling and Enjolras couldn’t keep the smile from his lips. 

After they accomplished that with minor casualties (Combeferre smeared a smiley face on the mirror), they moved into the living room. Together the three grown ass men sat on the couch with face masks on, watching whatever documentary was on the TV with disinterested eyes. Religieuse was sleeping quite content on his lap and Combeferre kept sneaking glances at her like he didn’t trust her at all. Honestly, Courfeyrac was starting to get offended for her. 

Looking down at his phone, Courfeyrac did a double take. 

“What is it?” Enjolras asked without glancing away from the TV.

“My friend’s just sexiled me?” 

Combeferre frowned in sympathy but Enjolras laughed. 

“Oh but--okay it's complicated--but look at my friend and his niece aren't they adorable?”

“Nice paint.” Enjolras glanced down to see Grantaire and Inès, both of whom had smudges of paint on their faces. They were at Courfeyrac’s flat but he trusted him enough to not worry about his furniture. 

“One of your friends is sexiling you and one’s sending you selfies with toddlers? At…two in the morning?”

“The duality of man. No, but Bossuet has sexilied R who’s pretending my flat is his so his sister and her kids are at mine hence I'm sexilied.”

“That’s needlessly complicated.”

“He just brought them over?” 

Courfeyrac nodded, “do you think I'm not the kind of person who gives his flat over to his friend when he needs to make a good impression on his sister when she needs to stay the night in Paris on her way to visit her parents-in-law in London?”

“That’s kind of you.” Combeferre smiled and then he dragged them up to wash their faces. After they all made a complete mess of the bathroom sink, Enjolras and Courfeyrac collapsed back on the couch. Combeferre just headed into the kitchen. 

“I’m going to go to bed. Come on guys.” The two bigger dogs got up as he went over to Enjolras’ bed but Religieuse stayed right where she was. 

“ Vitréais!” Combeferre called, pulling back the covers and helping the older dog onto the bed. The Frenchie with the giant ears, curled up next to him by the pillow and the both went back to sleep near instantly. 

Courfeyrac looked around for the fourth ( _ fourth!!) _ dog and caught the pile of blankets rustling. 

“Is he trapped in his safety blankets again?” Combeferre asked but before Courfeyrac could scoot up to look, a scraggly looking Chihuahua-ish dog with grey hair on its chin that looked like a beard and a fluffy head that stood in contract with the rest of it’s body trotted by, it’s head down, keeping near the wall. “There you are.” Combeferre picked him up and placed him on top of the pillow. 

“Nice of you to give up your bed.” Courfeyrac said turning away from them to look at Enjolras who was very nearly pouting at the television. 

“I didn’t.” 

“Good luck getting some pillow space.” 

“Thanks.” 

Combeferre crawled into bed and within a few minutes was snoring. One of the dogs was too. 

Enjolras turned to Courfeyrac almost exactly five minutes after the snoring started. “Do you want to do something really petty?” 

Courfeyrac looked at him, still totally unable to gage how wasted he was. He found himself nodding despite the warning bells. 

Enjolras nodded. “Put your shoes back on and come on.” 

As soon as  Religieuse was convinced to get off his lap and his shoes were on, Enjolras handed him a raincoat that was about two sizes too big for him and an umbrella. “Has it really started raining?” Courfeyrac asked, looking out the window. 

“Yeah,” Enjolras nodded, “But don’t worry, it’s only a couple blocks.” 

Courfeyrac didn’t ask what they were doing because he knew he wouldn’t go through with it if he knew. 

Down the stairs they went, a bit precariously now that it was late and Courfeyrac was starting to get tired. He held the umbrella over the two of them and it was crazy to think that just a couple hours ago, they were strangers in a bar. Now they were off in the middle of a midnight downpour to do something petty together. 

Enjolras didn’t say anything and so Courfeyrac didn’t either. He just made sure the umbrella shielded the both of them. Enjolras’ raincoat was oversized as well and it could be that they had both stolen some of Combeferre’s clothes to wear. 

They stopped in front of a nondescript townhouse door and Enjolras immediately started rummaging around in the dirt to the left of the entryway. He pulled out a rock and then had a key in his hand. He wiped his hands on his pants and then unlocked the door. 

All at once Courfeyrac realized what Being Petty meant to Enjolras. 

“We’re breaking into his ex’s apartment.” 

Enjolras didn’t even turn around, he just unlocked the door. “Is it my fault he didn’t think to change the locks or at the very least move the spare key?” 

Enjolras silently opened the door and handed the key to Courfeyrac to hold. He lead him in inside and Courfeyrac stood just inside the doorway on the wood floor. The welcome mat that was probably usually here was most likely in Enjolras’ apartment somewhere. There was a jingle of keys and then Enjolras was hurrying out the front door. Courfeyrac shut the door as gently as he could and then followed him back out, glad to be out of the apartment. He glanced up as Enjolras went over to the car and unlocked it. He slipped inside as Courfeyrac scanned the windows to see if anyone could see them  _ stealing a car _ . 

Enjolras turned the car on, casual as could be even though Courfeyrac’s heart was about to leap from his throat and then opened the sunroof. Rain instantly started pouring in and Enjolras turned the engine off and slipped out to hide under the umbrella again. 

“Wait here.” he said then ran up the steps and into the apartment. Courfeyrac’s knees almost went weak with relief, he wouldn’t have to add car thief to his resume tonight. 

He reemerged a moment later and was bending down to hide the key back in the roots of a dying bush when a light turned on in one of the windows across the street. 

“Fuck. Run--” Courfeyrac hissed and Enjolras grabbed onto him as they raced down the street, probably looking suspicious as fuck. They rounded the corner, both huddling under the umbrella and Enjolras all but dragged him back to the apartment. 

Enjolras started laughing as they climbed the stairs and, seeing as he had one of the most infectious laughs Courfeyrac had ever heard, it took several long minutes for them to reach the apartment. 

Religieuse waited for them at the top of the stairs and there was movement from a couple other blurry figures that seemed to dart back towards Combeferre.  
  
“Did we turn the lights off when we left?” Enjolras asked, still trying to catch his breath from laughing. 

“Honestly I don’t remember.” 

The pair went to check on Combeferre as Enjolras turned on the bathroom light for them to see. 

Combeferre, all nice and tucked in, was snoring slightly. 

Enjolras threw a towel at Courfeyrac as he stripped out of the raincoat and dried his hair. “So you’re of course welcome to stay the night. I’m not going to send you back out in this rain.” 

As if she understood French,  Religieuse made a beeline for the bed and then yipped sadly.

Enjolras just sighed, “come on. I’ve squeezed four people in that bed before, what’s three and four dogs.”

“I can sleep on the--”

Religieuse cried pitifully and he pulled his shoes off. Silently, as if wary of making this weird, Enjolras and Courfeyrac just climbed into bed on either side of Combeferre, playing tetris with the dogs. 

Courfeyrac was asleep almost before his head was on the pillow. 

 

* * *

The sun was shining when Courfeyrac awoke and it took him several long moments of blinking in the brightness for him to realize he didn’t know where the fuck he was. A door shut and then there was a frantic pattering of feet and then something landed on him, causing the entire bed to become unstable and start squirming. 

A dog wormed its way under his arm and another one licked his ear. 

Last night came back to him quickly and, yeah, that had probably been one of the (if not  _ the _ ) weirdest nights of his life. Hopefully he’d get pancakes before he was kicked out. He never did get that coffee Enjolras promised. 

A petite, long-haired man came to stand next to the bed, arms crossed and glaring at either Combeferre or Enjolras. “Tell me you didn’t break into Jeremy’s house, steal his car keys and open his sun roof. When me and Croquembouche--”

\--Courfeyrac made a strangled sort of sound because there were  _ more _ pastry dogs-- 

“--walked by this morning, we happened to catch him realizing his car was flooded.”

Combeferre straight up giggled and turned to Enjolras, “did you really?” 

“Of course not, it was a coincidence.” Enjolras’ voice was light and it made Combeferre smile wider.

“Did you run into him? Did he see you?” the stranger demanded. 

“He’s always been a bit forgetful about his sun roof.” Enjolras shrugged and the redhead, satisfied now that he knew Enjolras  _ had  _ in fact ruined some upholstery in an act of revenge, turned to his next problem. 

“Who are you?” he asked Courfeyrac blankly. 

“Oh shit.” Combeferre said, sitting up, taking the blankets with him. “I’m so sorry, you left your wallet here when you went out last night so I sent your information to someone at the shelter so they could do a background check on you.” 

Courfeyrac rolled over to look at him, much to  Religieuse’s displeasure. She burrowed under the pillow.  “Honestly I’m offended. I broke into your ex’s house to avenge your honor. Is that not enough?” 

“For  Religieuse .” 

Courfeyrac sat up. “Holy shit yes. Holy shit I have to move. It’s okay though. How long do I have? Where’s my phone I’m sure there’s a suitable place available.”

“Where the fuck did you find this guy.” Their friend asked blankly. 

“Bar. Bought us cheese fries.” Enjolras grumbled. 

“So you sleep with him?” 

“He was sexiled.” 

“Oh shit, also, yeah, need to call my roommate.” Courfeyrac climbed over them and stood, heading upstairs so he could call Bossuet while watching the sun rise over his city. He’d have to call out of work too--personal emergency--but that could wait still.  Religieuse jingled behind him as he made his way upstairs. 

“We were gone twenty minutes tops and you woke up, sent his personal information out and then went back to bed.” Enjolras’ voice was flat. 

“ Religieuse woke me crying.” Combeferre was quiet but their friend laughed. 

Courfeyrac and Religieuse were joined a few minutes later by a scraggly mop of a dog, probably chihuahua as well, but it looked like one of those chinese crested dogs with long fur only on its head, paws and tail. It was missing it’s back leg as well but it didn’t seem to realize it.    


“Morning, Croquembouche. Sorry about the name.”    


Joly answered Bossuet’s phone and Courfeyrac held his breath, waiting for his friend to speak. 

“Courfeyrac.” Joly said after a moment, and his voice very clearly said that he was trying not to smile as he warned him not to tease him. 

“Yo, what the fuck.” he whispered. He could hear Musichetta behind him, talking to someone, probably Bossuet but maybe Grantaire if he had sent his sister and niece off already. 

“So...what happened was…”

There was a rustling sound and then Musichetta said, “Joly and I have a boyfriend.” 

Courfeyrac just watched the orange light hit the windows of Notre Dame for a long moment, “Really?” 

“Yeah. We all like each other, we all want to date each other  _ so we are _ .” 

“This isn’t what I expected but this is exactly what I hoped for.” 

“You’re on speaker.” Bossuet told him, “where are you right now? R said that--”

Religieuse barked as she and Croquembouche tried to fight over the sliver of sunlight on the rooftop. “Hush.” Courfeyrac said, glancing down at them. 

“Was that a dog?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Did you stay out all night. You could have come here.” 

“Ironically I shared a bed with two people last night too.” 

“Please tell me it wasn’t the karaoke masochists.”

“Yep.” Courfeyrac drawled the word out and Bossuet groaned even as Musichetta and Joly clamored for details. “And I’m going to call R in a bit but I actually have to go about finding a new place because I sort of also kind of adopted a dog and you know, it was a very busy night over all. I also broke into an apartment, had a mini spa night and ruined a dick’s car.” 

“What the fuck I leave you alone for one night Luc Courfeyrac and this is what happens?” 

“Where  _ are  _ you?” 

Courfeyrac pulled the phone away to escape the barrage of questions, “Hold on, I’m going to facetime you because you won’t believe this.” 

Bossuet answered the phone and Musichetta nearly knocked it from his hand when she saw the sight. “Where the hell are you?” Joly demanded as the three of them all cried out at the sight of the dogs. 

“The fluffy one is going to be mine. Her name is  Religieuse and I love her.” 

Musichetta whispered, “what the fuck” at her name but was interrupted by Enjolras shouting upstairs. 

“Courfeyrac do you want some breakfast?” 

“Who was that?” Joly demanded. 

“Listen I have to go but I’ll see you all in a bit okay?” 

“No you can’t just--” 

Courfeyrac hung up and headed downstairs. Both  Religieuse and Croquembouche lept from the top of the stairs onto the the bed and Combeferre, who looked like he was having a rough time getting up. One of the other dogs poked its head out from under the blanket to glare.     


“What happened?” Enjolras asked. He was seated at the small breakfast table, cup of coffee in his hands. 

“He’s dating both of them.” 

“What?” Combeferre asked, dragging himself from bed with Jehan and Croquembouche’s help. 

“Okay so my friend’s had a crush on his best friend for years but his best friend started dating this amazing woman and last night they texted him saying they missed him and so I sent him off thinking he was finally going to talk to Joly but whatever happened they’re all dating now.” 

“Huh.” 

“I’m so happy. This is the best possible outcome.” 

“How’s the other one?” Enjolras asked his coffee. 

“Oh yeah I should probably text him.” Courfeyrac sent a quick message to Grantaire as Combeferre and Jehan began making pancakes. 

It took a couple minutes but eventually Grantaire texted back and eventually he said that his sister was off and he was staying at Courfeyrac’s until they both could go see the new triad together. 

He also sent a bunch of winking emojis and said that Joly said that he wasn’t the only one who had a threesome last night. Courfeyrac was just going to let them believe. 

“Do you have a hangover or nah?” he asked Enjolras who was sipping away at his coffee like he was an extra in a shitty holiday film. 

Enjolras glanced to him, betraying absolutely nothing, and then his gaze slid to where the redhead--Jehan--and Combeferre were making ‘pancake art’. “I swear to god, I refuse to eat pancake dicks so if you two don’t stop--”

Courfeyrac sputtered and glanced to the pair who guiltily put the batter down and stepped back. “Make a couple dinosaurs,” Jehan whispered, nudging the bowl towards Combeferre. 

“Do you want to come to l’ABC later?” Combeferre asked, as he poured batter into the pan with the utmost concentration on his face. 

“What’s that?” 

Enjolras turned to him, “we used to be a Uni sanctioned group but we outgrew it last year and so now we just meet at the Corinthe and we raise awareness for things, we have a food drive every couple of months, a toy drive in December. Sometimes we team up with other organizations and will help drive people to doctor appointments or interviews and things like that.” 

“Yeah--that sounds really cool actually. What do you mean you outgrew being university sanctioned?” 

“There was a small... _ event… _ ” Jehan said, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear and Courfeyrac could see a scar on his jaw. “...and a couple of us were arrested and there was some damage to public property that wasn’t our fault but it was easier for them to kick us out rather than actually deal with problems.” 

There was something about the way he said it and--damage to public property and arrests...it almost sounded like, “Oh shit--wait--were you involved in that fight when that trans kid was attacked?” 

“Technically he did the attacking.” Combeferre muttered and for a moment Courfyrac’s heart dropped. 

“They were shouting really terrible things at him so it’s not like he started it and, honestly, Combeferre you threw the second punch so I don’t know why you always pretend you weren’t right there fighting alongside him.” 

“It was awful.” Jehan sighed, “I thought they were going to  _ kill  _ those guys and so I ended up trying to drag Bahorel away but by the time Enjolras came over the damage was done and  _ we _ were the ones being arrested even though those dicks were the ones being disgusting throwing around all sorts of cliched transphobic shit. 

Courfeyrac sighed and nodded, relieved his new friends weren’t transphobic. 

“Anyway, he’ll be there later. You’ll like Bahorel.” 

“Do you want a mimosa?” Jehan asked, already digging around in the fridge 

“Yes please.” Courfeyrac and Combeferre practically chorused. 

Jehan nodded and pulled some cups out but Enjolras just looked at them all evenly, “is more alcohol really what you all need right now.” 

“Can’t get hungover if you don’t stop drinking.” 

Courfeyrac ended up having so many mimosas that he didn’t have time to run home and change and so he took a quick shower there (Combeferre looked delighted they were keeping him, Enjolras was resigned and Jehan just looked vaguely bemused), borrowed some clothes from both Enjolras and Combeferre and then they all headed off. Combeferre decided it was vital that they bring some champagne with them so he smuggled a bottle in his bag (they had a truly unseemly amount of terrible champagne in the flat). 

The meeting was an absolute riot in the best way, Courfeyrac stuck his nose in absolutely every order of business and volunteered himself for everything. 

He, Combeferre and Jehan also took over a corner of the back room and the vaguely familiar waitress made sure they had every possible choice of juice for their mimosa station. By the end of the meeting, Jehan was helping him put things on his calendar and all three were well on their way back to tipsy. Enjolras watched them with a frown that was transparently fond and Bahorel kept stealing Combeferre’s drink when he wasn’t looking. 

Bahorel had practically screamed when he found out what he and Enjolras had done to Combeferre’s ex’s car and the tried to get the location of the spare key from Courfeyrac for ten minutes. He was  _ pretty  _ sure he kept his mouth shut though. 

“Are you going to be alright getting home by yourself?” Enjolras asked as they walked out of the cafe at the end of the meeting. 

“Yeah. My friends are actually just a couple streets over and I should be getting intercepted any minute now by Grantaire. We’re going to interrogate the triad together.”

“Oh shit yeah, that’s right--have fun with that.” 

Courfeyrac caught sight of Grantaire across the street and so he waved and then turned to the others who were waiting to see him off, “so I’ll call you later about  Religieuse and I’ll see you next Tuesday to see about the book drive?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Great see you then bye!” Courfeyrac hurried to catch up with Grantaire. 

“So what the fuck happened to you last night?” Bahorel demanded behind him and then whatever the answer was, it made him laugh loudly. 

“Honestly what the fuck happened to you last night?” Grantaire demanded in way of greeting and Courfeyrac paused for a moment to marvel at how similar they were. 

“I’m not entirely sure but I’m serious about moving.” 

“We’ll talk about it after we figure out what’s going on with Bossuet, Joly and Musichetta.” 

“I think they’re cool, actually.” 

“Says the one who thinks it’s cool that he broke into some guy's apartment last night?” 

“He was a dick so he had it coming.” 

Grantaire mimicked him and then dragged him down the street, “I can’t believe you’re champagne drunk right now? You got champagne drunk at some social justice group thing? What kind of friends did you make last night?” 

“You’ll love them I promise.”  
  
“We’ll see about that.” Grantaire laughed, hurrying his pace. 

**Author's Note:**

> I kept stressing about characterization in this one? All three are various levels of drunk/upset and meeting for the first time so I just sort of went with it. Courfeyrac knows Combeferre's upset so he's trying to be a bit sillier, Enjolras' definitely more sober than everyone thinks (although he's still definitely tipsy because it takes a couple shots for him to sing like an idiot, even if it's to make Combeferre feel better). Combeferre's just sort of the messiest he's ever been in his life. 
> 
> Whenever Courfeyrac and Enjolras do anything together after this Courfeyrac calls it 'being petty'. 
> 
> The flat and dogs are roughly based off of real life apartments and dogs. You're not wasting time if it's Research!


End file.
